Mistress Irene had been staying at City Hall and, by the looks of things had been wearing out the carpet by pacing back and forth while waiting for news of her missing charges. Judging from the comments Emily had overheard as they were escorted into the building, Mistress Irene been an unwelcome guest, probably because she took her responsibilities seriously. God help anyone who got in Mistress Irene’s way. City Hall itself was a massive building that reminded Emily of the Roman Senate. Dozens of young men ran around the building, carrying letters and packets from one room to another, while a cluster of older men supervised their every move. There were no women at all, apart from Mistress Irene–and, given the looks that the two girls received as they entered the building, Emily suspected that women were generally barred from entering City Hall. Like so much else about the strange new world she’d discovered, it seemed surprisingly primitive–and barbaric. “May all the Gods be praised,”
